
FT MEADE 
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\ Dark Figure Appeared at the Window 

See page 55. 



























































































dir jTorcst ©ante Series* Wo* 2* 

A Sequel to the Mountaineer Series. 


CREEPING 


i 

JENNY 


MBwar [y 

srr: ‘t RBI-XJ 


BY 



WILLIS BOYD ALLEfcJ^ 

* *■<# 

AUTHOR OF “THE MOUNTAINEER SERIES,” "CHRISTMAS 
AT SURF POINT,” “PINE CONES,” “SILVER RAGS,” 
“THE NORTHERN CROSS,” “KELP," ETC. 



♦ 



BOSTON AND CHICAGO: 
Congregational cSitntiau^S'rijool anti Publishing £?oricto. 


cr> 




4-rz 



COPYRIGHT, 1889, BY 

CONGREGATIONAL SUNDAY-SCHOOL AND PUBLISHING SOCIETY. 


. 4 

1 '> <, 



Electrotyped and Printed by 
Samuel Usher, 171 Devonshire Street, Boston. 


TO 

MY LITTLE CAMBRIDGE NIECE, 

ANNIE LOUISE. 


4 








CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER PAGE 

I. Molasses and Snow.7 

II. Hunting for the Moon. 18 

III. A Mountain Candy-pull.30 

IV. What a Snowflake Did. 39 

V. Hugh and Jenny. 47 







CREEPING JENNY. 


CHAPTER I. 

MOLASSES AND SNOW. 

The little girl who had been left 
with the Aldens in the midst of a 
terrible snow-storm thrived wonder¬ 
fully in her new home. Back and 
forth she crept over the uneven 
floor of the log cabin, until, as we 
read in “ Prince's Pine,” the first 
volume of these stories, she earned 
the name of “ Creeping Jenny.” 

“ Mother,” said Winthrop one 
day, “ did n’t you say something 
about a kind of evergreen named 
just like baby ? ” 



8 


CREEPING JENNY. 


“There was a kind we called 
‘creeping Jenny’ when I was a 
girl,” replied Mrs. Alden. “ I don’t 
know what they call it nowadays.” 

“ What does it look like ? ” 

“ Oh, it has shiny little leaves, 
all flat and branching out into fin¬ 
gers. And it runs along the ground 
like the prince’s pine.” 

“ Is it good for any thing, 
mother ? ” 

“ Yes, Winnie ; it’s the very best 
kind of evergreen for decorations 
at Christmas time. People in the 
cities buy a great deal of it to 
trim churches and houses.’’ 

“ I wish I could earn a little 
money that way,” said the boy 
half to himself. 

Money was very scarce with 


MOLASSES AND SNOW . 


9 

the Aldens, and Winnie made up 
his mind that if it were a possible 
thing he would make some ever¬ 
green trimming that very next 
Christmas, and sell it. 

How he succeeded we shall see 
in the last volume of this series. 

You will remember that it was 
at this time about midwinter, and 
that the weather was very cold and 
stormy. 

One evening Mr. Alden brought 
up from his little store a brown 

jug- 

“What is it, John?” asked 
Mrs. Alden. “ Vinegar ? ” 

“ No, Polly; it *s some nice mo¬ 
lasses that came by the train this 
afternoon. I thought I ’d bring 
some up, and we'd have a little 
fun this evening." 


IO 


CREEPING JENNY. 


“ Oh, good ! good ! molasses 
candy! ” cried Winnie ; and the 
other children were as much de¬ 
lighted as he. 

“We’ll have both kinds,” said 
Stella; “flat and pulled.” 

As soon as supper was eaten 
and the table cleared, Mr. Alden 
hung a kettle on the crane in the 
big fire-place, and poured in about 
three pints of molasses. It looked 
very rich and nice as he poured it 
from the jug. 

“May I stir, mother?” asked 
Winthrop eagerly. 

Mrs. Alden gave him a long- 
handled wooden spoon for answer, 
and he took his post by the kettle 
with an important air. 

For some time the molasses 


Making Molasses Candy. Page io. 











































































MOLASSES AND SNO W. \ \ 

looked as dark as ever, but pretty 
soon it began to have light-brown 
streaks and patches. 

Winnie stirred gravely, and 
never took his eyes from the 
kettle. 

Little Creeping Jenny was asleep 
in Mrs. Alden’s arms. “ She sup¬ 
posed the child ought to be in 
bed,” Polly said, “ but she believed 
she would hold her awhile first, and 
let her get nicely warmed through.” 

“ And now, mother,” said King, 
Winnie’s brother, “ why can’t we 
have a story? ” 

“ What! while the molasses is 
boiling? ” 

‘‘Certainly,” put in Mr. Alden. 
“ Why not ? ” 

Just then Stella came back from 


12 


CREEPING JENNY. 


the window, where she had been 
looking out at the snow. 

“ I never saw the moon so 
bright/’ she said. “Every thing is 
as light as day.” 

“Just see how big and yellow it 
is ! ” exclaimed King, looking out 
in his turn. 

“ Does any body live in it, 
mother?” said Winnie, stirring 
slowly. 

“No, dear; it is only a dry 

cinder, rolling round through the 

• >> 

air. 

“ Then what makes it shine 
so ? 

“ The light of the sun shining on 
it. All it has to do each night is 
to say : ‘ Oh, please shine on me, 
great, warm sun. I’m all black my- 


MOLASSES AND SNOW. 


13 

self, but if you will shine on me 
hard, I will try to light up some 
dark places down in that little earth, 
with your light.’ Then the sun 
does shine, and the moon helps, 
and we call it a beautiful moon¬ 
light night." 

“ How about the story, Polly? ” 
said Mr. Alden, who liked to listen 
as well as the rest. “ Can you 
remember one with any thing in it 
about the moon ? ” 

“ Oh, yes!" cried Polly cheer¬ 
fully; “it ’s a story of a little girl 
who tried to get the moon all for 
herself." 

Here it is, as she told it: — 

“ How the wind did blow! 
Gretchen curled up her toes, and 



I 4 CREEPING JENNY,\ 

cuddled down under the blankets 
until only her blue eyes and her 
brown tousled hair were left out¬ 
side. It had been snowing hard 
all day, and now the last few flakes 
of the storm were fluttering 
about on tiny white wings, and 
peeping in through one small 
clear space on the frosty window. 
The clear space had been made by 
Gretchen’s warm little nose, when 
she had tried to look out just before 
saying her prayers and jumping 
into bed. 

“ Perhaps I ought to have said, 
in the first place, that in the coun¬ 
try where she lived the winters are 
always very long and dark, for the 
sun only shines four or five hours 
each day, and the snow is very 


MOLASSES AND SNOIV. j - 

deep. If you will look on the map 
of Europe, Winnie, and find a big 
piece on the right-hand side (it 
used to be painted yellow on my 
map), reaching away up to the 
polar-bear country, you will see 
these letters mixed in with the 
mountains and rivers : R-U-S-S-I-A. 
That is where Gretchen lived. Her 
father’s house was on the border 
of a broad, desolate plain, where 
trees had once grown, but had 
long since been cut down and 
burned. So the wind had great 
fun when it came to this plain, 
and for once had plenty of room to 
dance and roar in without disturb¬ 
ing any one except the hungry 
wolves, which objected very much 
to having their hair stroked the 


I 6 CREEPING JENNY. 

wrong way, and their tails blown 

over their backs almost to the tips 

of their noses. But when the wind 

reached the edge of the plain where 

Gretchen lived, it would only give 

the house a few little pats, and 

laugh down the chimney, and puff 

the ashes out into the room until 

they came down on Gretchen’s 
* 

shoulders like a ’small snow-storm 
with warm flakes. 

“ To-night the wind was tum¬ 
bling about over the plain, piling 
up the drifts into forts and giants 
and all sorts of queer shapes, like a 
boy at play. Gretchen could hear 
him laughing, and, in spite of her 
warm bed, began to wish she were 
outside too.” 


MOLASSES AND SNOW. 


17 

At this point of the story Win- 
throp suggested that it was time 
to “ try ” the molasses. 

A shout of laughter went up 

from the rest, for the molasses 

had barely begun to boil. But 

King brought in a cup of snow, 

and a spoonful of molasses was 

solemnly poured into it. 

« 

It was still very soft, but the 
boys divided it, and seemed to 
enjoy it quite as much as real 
candy. 

“ Now please go on, mother,” 
said Winnie. 


CHAPTER II. 


HUNTING FOR THE MOON. 

“‘I could put on my furs,’ 
thought Gretchen" (Mrs. Alden 
continued), “‘and jump right into 
that snow-drift under the window, 
and then perhaps the wind would 
show me strange things.’ 

“ But just then she forgot all 
about the wind, for something was 
certainly looking in at the round 
hole in the window-pane. What a 
bright, bright eye it had ! Gretch¬ 
en could n’t help running up to the 
window and looking out, and then 
it was like a fairy story. On the 
edge of the sky lay the forest, dark 



Walking Right up into the Sky. Page 18 







































HUNTING FOR THE MOON 


l 9 

and gloomy; in front, and as far 
as the little girl could see, the 
white, glistening snow stretched 
away mile after mile. The sky 
was full of stars, and the snow 
seemed full of stars too, sparkling 
and twinkling until they made 
Gretchen wink her eyes hard for 
their very brightness. But far out 
on the plain, just at the top of the 
little hillock, was the most won¬ 
derful, beautiful thing of all. A 
great, gleaming ball of gold rested 
upon the snow so lightly that it 
never sank into it by a hair’s 
breadth, filling the air and cover¬ 
ing the plain with a flood of 
lmht so fair that Gretchen’s little 

o 

heart beat faster and faster. 

“ If she could reach the top of 


20 


CREEPING JENNY . 


the hill before that ball rolled out 
of sight! If she could just put her 
•hands on its smooth, radiant sides, 
and lay her cheek against their 
shining gold ! If she could roll 
it toward the house, so that her 
father would find it in the morn¬ 
ing, and they would be rich for¬ 
ever ! 

“ Gretchen remembered perfectly 
well that her mother had often 
taken her upon her knee and told 
her to have nothing to do with 
gold. ‘It is a bad, bad thing for 
most people,' she said, ‘ and only 
those who are very good and wise 
can touch it safely/ Then she had 
told her how the wise men had 
brought gold to the Babe at Beth¬ 
lehem, but that was because He was 



Gretchen’s Mother. Page 20 
















































HUNTING FOR THE MOON 


21 


so very good. ‘ And even then,’ 
she added, ‘ I don’t know what He 
ever did with it. He was poor 
enough, Gretchen, to work with 
wood and tools until he was a 
grown-up man, and then he had 
nowhere to lay his head/ 

“ Gretchen had not forgotten all 
this, by any means, but the ball of 
gold seemed so grand and large 
and near that she resolved this 
once to disobey her mother, and 
try to bring it home. ‘ I '11 give 
it all to her but a little, tiny piece,’ 
she thought. 

“ So she was soon covered up to 
her ears in furs, mittens, and boots, 
and in another minute had put on 
a small pair of snow-shoes her 
father had made for her, and was 


22 CREEPING JENNY. 

plunging along through the snow 
towards the hill. The wind had 
gone off somewhere for awhile, 
and at first the air did not seem 
very cold. The ball seemed to 
have sunk into the snow a little, 
and to have rolled along on the 
top of the ridge. Sometimes 
Gretchen went down into the snow 
as far as her waist, but that was 
not often, for she had learned to 
walk bravely upon her snow-shoes. 
This kind of walking is very hard, 
you know, and before long the 
little lass began to breathe heavily. 
Presently she stopped to rest. 
The gold ball had sunk so deep 
into the snow that only its bright 
rim was to be seen above the 
hill. Gretchen pressed on faster 


HUiVT/NG FOR THE MOON 


23 

than ever. But now the snow- 
shoes began to knock against each 
other and trip her up. Once or 
twice she fell flat, and then it was 
hard work to get up again, for 
she sunk deeper at every strug- 
gle. 

“ Suddenly it seemed to grow 
dark about her. Gretchen glanced 
up; the gold ball had sunk quite 
out of sight! The sky looked 
black and cross, with all its fiery 
little eyes snapping at her. The 
wind too seemed to notice her for 
the first time, and began to pinch 
her ears and throw bits of stinging 
ice and snow into her eyes. Oh, 
how tired she was, and sleepy 
and cold ! The driving snow that 
whirled from the edges of the 


24 


CREEPING JENNY. 


huge drifts formed a veil over her 
eyes, and she could no longer see 
where she was going. 

“ Gretchen was too brave, al¬ 
though she was only a mite of 
a girl, to cry, so she just kept 
whispering, ‘ Mother! mother! ’ 
very easy. At last she could n’t 
do that, because she should cry 
if she moved her lips. Then she 
kept thinking , ‘Mother! mother!’ 
under her brown hair and in behind 
the blue eyes, until it began to 
drive the tears right out. So she 
could n’t do that any more either. 

“ Now she grew too sleepy to 
walk. She looked dimly about 
her, and saw a flock of woolly 
white sheep and lambs lying on 
the snow here and there. She 


HUNTING FOR THE MOON. 


25 

was n’t much surprised at this, for 
it all began to seem pretty much 
like a dream, and choosing one of 
the woolliest of the lambs, she lay 
down beside it, cuddled up into its 
fleecy neck, and wearily dropping 
her head upon her arm, shut her 
eyes and went to sleep. 

“ By this time the wind began to 
repent of his roughness, and set 
about doing something to help 
little Gretchen, whom he knew very 
well. 

“ ‘ If that pack of wolves will 
stay in the woods where I drove 
them half an hour ago,’ he mut¬ 
tered, ‘ I can risk leaving her. 
Weil, there’s no time to talk. 
Here goes.’ So he hurried off 
to the little hut on the edge of the 


26 


CREEPING JENNY. 


plain, and knocked hard at the 
window of the room where 
Gretchen's mother was sleeping. 
In a minute she was wide awake. 

“ ‘ How the wind roars to-night! ’ 
she thought. ‘ I must see if my 
little Gretchen has plenty of warm 
clothes upon her bed.’ Just then 
* a biting cold draft touched her 
cheek, and made her shiver. 

“ ‘ Why, the wind must have 
blown the window open, and ’ — 
there was the empty bed. 

“ ‘ Henri, Henri, up, quick ! The 
child has been carried off, or walks 
in her sleep ! ’ 

“ How they peered down into 
the drift beneath her window, and 
followed the little print of the 
snow-shoes one by one, the lantern 



HUNTING FOR THE MOON. 2~ 

swinging to and fro, and the stars 
looking down as if each one 
wanted to lead them to where 
the young child was. 

“ At last they came to a tract of 
land where the trees had been cut 
away hastily, many years before, 
and a small portion of the stumps 
had been left in the ground. These 
were now covered with snow and 
rose in little white mounds on 
every side. 

“ ‘ Be careful not to trip thyself 
upon the tree-stumps, wife!’ cried 
Gretchen’s father. ‘ I no longer 
see the tracks of — Ah ! what is 
here ? ’ 

“ And the father’s trembling 
hands unclasped Gretchen’s little 
fur mittens from a projecting root, 



28 


CREEPING JENNY. 


and raised her from the ground 
where she had been lying closely 
nestled up to the rough bark. 

“ Got well? Why, of course 
she did. I should n’t have told 
you the story if she had n't. I 
don’t believe in having stories that 
don’t end nicely, do you ? There 
are enough real things in the world 
to feel badly about, without any 
make-believe ones at all. 

“ It took a long time though for 
Gretchen to get well, and for a 
good many days the doctor could n’t 
have told you what the end of this 
story would be. But I happen to 
know that when the fever was 
gone and the bright summer days 
came again, Gretchen was as strong 
and well as ever. And she does n’t 


HUNTING FOR THE MOON. 


2 9 

want any gold — at any rate not 
until she is a good deal older. Be¬ 
sides, she says she was half-asleep, 
anyway, or she would have known 
it was the moon !” 



CHAPTER III. 


A MOUNTAIN CANDY-PULL. 

During all the last part of the 
moon-story the molasses was boil¬ 
ing furiously, and Winnie stirring 
with all his might. 

There were several pauses, also, 
when the candy had to be tried. 

At last the spoonful dropped in 
the snow was found to break 
easily, and the candy was pro¬ 
nounced done. 

Mr. Alden swung the heavy 
crane round, kettle and all, and 
poured out about one half into 
a broad, shallow pan, which was 
set outside the door to cool. 


30 


A MOUNTAIN CANDY-PULL. 


31 

The rest was poured into a 
bowl, and as soon as it could be 
handled was divided into portions 
for pulling-. 

How they did work! 

“Just look at father’s!” cried 
Winnie, as he tugged away at his 
long loop of candy. “ It \s almost 
white.” 

“ Mine sticks to my fingers all 
the time,” said King. 

“ Put flour on ’em.” 

“ Here, King, you pull with me.” 

Stella and her brother put theirs 
together and each held one end of 
the loop. The whole kitchen was 
filled with the delicious smell of 
molasses candy, and the frolic 
was at its height, with baby (who 
had waked up to attend her first 


32 


CREEPING JENNY. 


candy-pull) crowing, and calling 
out musically, “ Den ! Den ! ” at 
the top of her voice, when there 
came a heavy knock at the door. 

As every hand was full of candy, 
nobody could go to the door; but 
a chorus of “ Come in ! ” arose, 
followed by a glad shout: — 

“ It’s Hugh ! it’s Hugh ! ” 

Hugh was the big, good-natured 
lumberman who lived at the Mill 
Settlement, and had befriended the 
Mountaineers more than once. 

The children all rushed up to him, 
and no sooner had he taken off his 
coat and mittens than he was set 
to pulling candy like the rest. 

“Wal, I do declare,” said he, 
“ this is reel comfortable. Haow ’s 
Jenny ? ” 



A MOUNTAIN CANDY-PULL. 


33 

The baby answered for herself 
by stretching out both arms to 
H ugh and smiling into his face. 

“ There,” said he, “ I b’lieve I 
must hold her jest a minute. You 
take this candy off my hands, 
Stella, will ye?” 

There was another laugh, for 
Hugh could do nothing until the 
long, yellow, sticky loop was lifted 
off like a skein of yarn. 

“ Naow, miss,” said he, turning 
with a beaming look to the child, 
“ I guess we ’ll hev a trot.” 

He took Jenny on his knee, and 
holding her fast, gave her a lively 
trotting which delighted her till 
she screamed with fun. 

All this time Mrs. Alden had 
been wondering what brought 


34 


CREEPING JENNY. 


the backwoodsman up the moun¬ 
tain after dark. 

Pretty soon Hugh’s face began 
to look troubled, and he forgot to 
trot baby. 

“ I ’ll tell you what t is, John,” 
said he slowly, “ I m a leetle bit 
consarned abaout this ’ere chip¬ 
munk,” glancing at the child on 
his knee. 

“ Why, what’s the matter ? ” 
cried Mr. Alden and his wife, 
both at once. 

The children looked up from 
their candy in alarm. 

“ Thar’s a feller raound here 
that claims her for his. I don’t 
believe she's his darter any 
more n she’s mine, but he says his 
wife an’ baby were travelin' on the 


A MOUNT A IN' CANDY-PULL. 


35 

cars an’ they got off at a station 
below here fur somethin’ to eat. 
While they were in the station 
the train started off, baby an’ all, 
and left ’em.” 

“ Where does he say his wife is 

*n y y 

now r 

“ Says she went on to Montreal, 
visitin’. I don’t believe a word 
on t, for my part. It’s my opinion 
he wants to get some money out of 
it somehaow.” 

" H ow did he know about 
Jenny, then ? ” 

“ Oh, the railroad men are all 
talking abaout it. I guess the 
Mountaineers’ Creepin' Jenny is 
known putty nigh all the way to 
Portland ; ain’t ye, leetle gal ? ” 

“ Den ! Den ! Goo-ah-h! ” re- 


^6 CREEPING JENNY. 

marked that young lady earnestly, 
wriggling back and forth to re¬ 
mind Hugh that he was her 
horse. 

“ I only wanted to tell ye what I 
was afeard on,” added Hugh, with 
a look of great tenderness at the 
laughing baby on his knee, “ so ’s 
you d be prepared ef that feller 
should come up here after her. 
He’s an ugly-lookin’ chap as ever 
walked the ’arth, and I would n’t 
give up Jenny to him without he 
proves fa r an’ squar’ that he ’s 
her father. Now I must be goin’.” 

“ Going ! I guess not to-night! 
You Ve got to stay till morning, 
now you ’re here, old fellow ! And 
thank you a thousand times for 
coming,” Mr. Alden continued. 


A MOUNTAIN CANDY-PULL. 


37 

“ Wal, ef so be thet I c’n sleep 
before this ’ere fire on my old b’ar- 
skin, I ’ll stay.” 

Hugh always called it his bear¬ 
skin, because, as you will remem¬ 
ber, he hunted and shot the bear 
which had worn it. 

Throwing off their anxiety for 
the time, the Mountaineers once 
more began their fun. The candy 
was at last ready, and, being drawn 
out into long, light strips, was cut 
into sticks and drops and set away 
on a board to harden. The “ flat ” 
candy was brought in and passed 
around. 

Little Creeping Jenny was put 
to bed before this part of the pro¬ 
gram, and before long the little 
cabin, half-buried beneath the snow, 


CREEPING JENNY. 


38 

was as quiet as the fir-trees outside 
in the moonlight, save for the soft 
rustling and crackling of the glow¬ 
ing fire-brands; before which, on 
the black, shaggy bear-skin, was 
stretched the long, ungainly form 
of Hugh the lumberman. Long 
after every body else in the house 
was asleep, he lay there looking 
into the bright coals, with that same 
troubled look on his face. The 
lonely man had already learned to 
love the baby so dearly ; and now 
— if she should be taken away! 


CHAPTER IV. 


WHAT A SNOWFLAKE DID. 

When the Aldens rose the 
morning after the candy-pull, they 
found that Hugh had already gone. 
He was always very careful not 
to burden his friends; much more 
than he needed to be — really. 

“ He was a powerful eater,” 
he used to say, “ and there was 
no call to feed him as well as 
keep him all night.” 

The clear skies of the evening 
before were now covered with 
clouds, and by ten o’clock the first 
small flakes began to fall, prom¬ 
ising another storm. 

39 





4 o 


CREEPING JENNY. 


Stella had already been out with 
some crumbs and a handful of 
grain to feed the birds, as she did 
almost every day. 

At noon it was snowing hard, 
and the children were caged in the 
cabin. 

“ Oh, dear,” said Winnie mourn¬ 
fully, after dinner, “ it ’s nothing 
but snow, snow, snow. Do you 
suppose it ever will stop, mother '? 
Will it ever be spring?” 

“All in good time, my boy. If it 
were not for the snow there would 
be no spring at all, you know.” 

“ But, mother, there ’s been so 
much of it ! And it’s all got to 
melt away, and — oh, dear! I want 
to go out and play in the woods, 
and have a garden, and ” — 




WHAT A SNOWFLAKE DID. 


41 


“ W innie, suppose you put your 

head on my shoulder, so that you 

can look out at the storm, and 

I will tell you a true story. That 

is, it is partly true and partly 

made up. It’s too dark for me to 

sew any longer.” 

“ Oh, that’ll be nice! Is it, 

about a bear, or fairies, or the 

little girl asleep in the palace, 

>> 

or — 

“ Just about a tiny white snow¬ 
flake. He had been fast asleep in 
the clouds all night, when one morn¬ 
ing he felt himself falling towards 
the earth. This was n’t pleasant, 
for the earth looked quite brown 
and muddy; but fortunately, it 
seemed, he spied just beneath him 
a tall white church steeple. 

X. 



4 2 


CREEPING JENNY. 


“ ‘ There,’ thought he, ‘ there’s 
my chance ! I will stop on the 
very tiptop of the steeple and so 
keep myself nice and clean.’ 

“ So he tried with all his might, 
and succeeded in clinging to the 
weather-vane, which was swinging 
to and fro, pointing every way in 
one minute. 

“ ‘ Oh,’ said the snowflake, ‘ this 
is dreadful ! It makes one lose 
one’s breath so! But it’s high 
up, and there’s that disagreeable 
mud down there, and ’ — 

“ Puff! came the wind. There 
was no help for it. And away he 
went, now up, now down, until he 
alighted in a miry hollow close 
beside the road, for the church was 
in a little country town. 



WHAT A SNOWFLAKE DID. 


43 

“ The flake first gave himself up 
for lost, it was so wet, and — well, 
the snow all around him did look 
more like brown sugar than any 
thing else, and pretty soon his own 
nice white crystals were soiled like 
the rest. Soon afterwards the air 
seemed to grow colder, then more 
flakes fell into the hollow, faster 
and faster, until, before very long, 
he was covered up quite out of 
sight. 

“What he thought about all 
these long weeks that followed I 
can’t tell you, Winnie. Perhaps 
he began to think he was a selfish 
little flake ; that he had been sent 
to do some good in the world, 
whether he fell in the mud, or on 
a tree-top, or on a church spire. 



CREEPING JENNY. 


44 

At any rate, he began to stir him¬ 
self a little to find out what he 
could do. He could no longer 
rise, for ice and snow lay heavy 
upon him, so he quietly worked his 
way down into the ground. There 
he found what seemed to be a 
great number of wee white fingers 
begging for something he carried. 
Bit by bit he gave them all the 
precious things he had brought 
from the sky. He was surprised 
to find how much he had. A little 
pure sky-water, a pinch of cloud- 
sugar, a shade of blue from a last 
summer’s rainbow — one by one 
he gave them all. At last every 
thing was gone ; but still the wee 
fingers were stretched out, and then 
— he gave himself. 




WHAT A SNOWFLAKE DID. 


45 

“ A few weeks later, when the 
snow had all melted away, and the 
brooks had begun to dance down 
hill, and the birds to sing in 
the trees, a little girl ran out 
from a house not far from the 
white church steeple, and began 
to look eagerly about her. The 
air was soft and delicious, and the 
setting sun shone so brightly in 
the west that it was like walking 
right up into the sky in a path 
of light. But the little girl hardly 
glanced at the sky. She was in 
such a hurry that she had even 
forgotten to put on her hat, and now 
she was searching for something 
in the grass beside the path. The 
turf was green and soft as a velvet 
cloak with golden dandelion but- 


CREEPING JENNY. 


46 

tons on it; but that was not what 
she wanted. 

“ All at once she gave a little 
cry of delight. 

“ ‘It is ! it is ! ’ she said aloud. 
‘ Now Rob can have it, and it will 
make him better, I know! ’ 

“ Stooping down she picked with 
great care one wee bright-faced 
violet and carried it away lovingly 
to the sick boy. 

“ I don’t suppose she knew, 
Winnie, what the snowflake had 
done, or where the violet had 
found its blue. But He who sent 
the snowflake knew, and He was 
glad ; and — why, Winnie, are you 
asleep? Wake up, dear! I hear 
father outside the door.” 


CHAPTER V. 


HUGH AND JENNY. 

Winnie rubbed his eyes, laughed, 
and ran to the door to let his father 
in. Mrs. Alden rose from her chair 
and lighted a candle in order to 
begin her preparations for tea. 
The snow had ceased falling in the 
afternoon, after all. 

King and Stella had gone down 
to the Mill Settlement to carry a 
basket of good things to Mrs. 
Ensling, a little German woman 
who lived there, very poor in all 
the unimportant things of life, 
such as money, food, fuel, and 
clothes, — but very rich in the best 


47 




CREEPING JENNY. 


48 

thi ngs : a sweet spirit, a pure and 
gentle heart, and love to her 
Father in heaven. 

“It is very easy,” she would say, 
“ for the rich to wear poor clothes, 
just for fun. I am a King’s daugh¬ 
ter, and I do not mind the poor 
clothes.” 

Then she would repeat from 
her dear old German Bible the 
words: — 

“ Deit A bend lang wahret das 
PVeinen, aber des Morgens die 
Fvended • 

If you want to find what that 
means, look at the last half of the 
fifth verse of the Thirtieth Psalm. 
Only Prau Ensling rarely wept, 
and she looked up and smiled 
through her tears, even in the 
night. 


HUGH AND JENNY. 


49 

In the Mountaineers’ log-cabin, 
you see, there was nobody left, 
on this particular afternoon, but 
Mrs. Alden and Winnie and the 
baby. 

Creeping Jenny was, in fact, 
asleep in her day-bed, not far 
from the big kitchen fire-place. 
The bed was made from a shoe- 
box, with one side cut down, and 
the rough boards covered inside 
and out with a cheap but bright 
print which Mr. Alden found in 
his stock at the store. 

Just as she was lighting her 
candle, Polly heard the sound 
of a strange and angry voice at 
the door. It was not her hus¬ 
band, then, after all ! She remem¬ 
bered suddenly that he did not 


50 


CREEPING JENNY. 


expect to reach home before six 
o’clock. It was now only half-past 
four. 

With a dread that she could not 
explain she hastened to the door, 
calling, — 

“Winnie, Winnie, what is it?” 

At the same minute there was 
a cry of pain, followed by a slam 
of the door, and the boy came 
running back, holding his hand to 
his head. 

“ He hit me, mother! He hit 

i >> 

me! 

“ Who hit you, Winthrop ? ” 

Mrs. Alden was a brave woman, 
but her voice shook as she took 
the little fellow in her arms. 

“ That ugly man out there,” 
sobbed Winthrop. “ He said he’d 
come after baby ” — 




HUGH AND JENNY. 


51 


“ After baby ? ” 

“Yes m. He said she was his 
girl, and he was going to take her 
away." 

“ Well ? " breathlessly, with a 
glance at innocent little Jenny, 
asleep in her box-crib. 

“ I told him to wait till father 
got home, or to go down to the 
station and see him. Then he swore 
dreadfully and said he would n’t, 
and that he was coming in now and 
get her. I stood in his way " — 

“ My brave boy ! " 

“And he — he struck my head 
with his fist. But I jumped into 
the entry and shut the door and 
bolted it just as quick. O 
mother, hear him bang at it now! " 
Mrs. Alden bowed her head a 



52 CREEPING JENNY. 

moment, and her lips moved 
silently. Then she looked Win¬ 
nie quietly and steadily in the 
face. 

“You must do something very 
hard, Winthrop.” 

The boy wiped away his tears 
and looked at her, sobered by her 
manner. 

“You must hurry down to the 
station and tell your father to 
come,” continued Mrs. Alden in 
low tones. She blew out the can¬ 
dle as she spoke. 

Bang , bang , bang! at the door. 
The man was getting angrier 
every moment. 

“ Put on your coat and cap 
quick, my son. I 'll let you out 
of the back window, and you can 


HUGH AND JENNY. 


53 

go round behind Whiteface’s shed 
while I talk with this man at the 
door. It’s so dark he won’t see 
you.” 

“ But, mother, I'm afraid to go 
out there alone ! ” 

And Winthrop’s lips quivered. 

“ You won’t be alone, dear. I Ve 
asked God to walk right along 
beside you. He can stay with you 
in the snow and ice just as well 
as in a fiery furnace. He will take 
care of you.” 

By this time Winthrop, who in 
all his fear and doubting, had been 
putting on his snow-shoes just the 
same, was nearly ready. A few 
moments more and he was stand¬ 
ing at the open window, and while 
his mother went to the door he 


CREEPING JENNY. 


54 

slipped out quietly, closed the win¬ 
dow, and was gone. 

“ What do you want ? ” demand¬ 
ed Mrs. Alden in clear tones. 

She did not open the door, 
but voices could easily be heard 
through it. 

“ I want that gal, and you’d 
better give her to me quick ! ” 

“ I don’t know who you are.” 

“ I m her father," growled the 
man savagely. “ You open this 
door." 

Another bang. 

“ How can I tell that you are 
speaking the truth ? ” 

H er only idea was to gain time 
for Winnie. 

“ I 11 let ye know what I m 
speaking, if ye don’t open this 
door.” 


HUGH AND JENNY. 

And he kicked it until it shook 
on its hinges. 

“ Why don’t you ask my hus¬ 
band about it ? ” 

Before the man could answer, a 
low cry arose from the kitchen. 
Baby had waked up, and hearing 
the harsh tones outside the door, 
was disturbed. 

Mrs. Alden flew to her side to 
quiet her, but baby insisted upon 
being taken up. 

As Polly turned, with little Jen¬ 
ny in her arms, a dark figure ap¬ 
peared at one of the low front- 
windows, and an evil-looking face 
peered in. He could see every 
thing plainly in the firelight — the 
cosy room, the little home-made 
bed, the brave woman standing 
there, and the baby in her arms. 



CREEPING JENNY. 


56 

“ Look here,” called the man 
loudly, “ I ’ll give ye jest one 
minute to open that door. If ye 
don’t then, I’ll break this 'ere win¬ 
dow and come in anyhow ! " 

M rs. Alden said nothing, but 
stood there in the firelight as 
motionless as a statue, her eyes 
fixed upon the dark pair gazing in 
through the frosty panes, her heart 
praying silently for help. 

“ Minute ’s up ! I’m cornin’! ” 
shouted the man, raising his fist 
to beat in the glass. 

Suddenly, without the slightest 
warning, he tumbled backward, 
head over heels, and disappeared 
in a snow-bank. 

“ What air ye tryin’ to do, stran¬ 
ger? " said a familiar voice, which 
made Polly’s heart leap for joy. 


HUGH AA r D JENNY. 


57 

She rushed to the window, and 
there, sure enough, was the long, 
homely figure of Hugh. 

Covered with snow, and mut¬ 
tering savagely, the man picked 
himself up and was about to sneak 
off, when Hugh laid his hand on 
his shoulder in a way that made 
him stop. . 

“ You seemed so anxious to get 
into the haouse,” remarked his 
captor, “ I guess we ’ll let ye. 
Halloa, John, come ’long an’ help 
me tend to this chap.’’ 

A shout from the path a little 
below answered him, and four 
figures, at first dimly seen in the 
darkness, hurried up to the cabin. 

It seemed that Mr. Alden fin¬ 
ished his business sooner than he 


CREEPING JENNY. 


58 

had expected, and, overtaking 
King and Stella on their way 
home from Mrs. Ensling’s, had 
walked up with them. They met 
Winnie about halfway from the 
station, and learned from him of 
the danger to Jenny. As for 
Hugh, he had heard at the mill 
that the strange man had been 
seen walking up the track, and, 
fearing trouble, he had come 
“across lots ” to the Mountaineers’, 
arriving, as we have seen, just in 
time. 

Well, the man did not dare 
resist, but went sullenly into the 
house with them. 

“ You ve got to give her up, 
anyways,” said he, with a dogged 
air, pointing to Jenny, who was 


HUGH AND JENNY. 


59 


engaged in climbing up Hugh as 
if he were a new and particularly 
attractive kind of tree. 

“ I guess not,” replied John 
calmly. “Here is a letter from 
conductor Harkins. He has 
looked up the matter and finds 
that the child’s father and mother 
died in Boston six months ago. 
She was left in the care of some 
distant relatives, who got tired of 
her and abandoned her on the 
train. As for you, sir,” he con¬ 
tinued sternly, “ you are a Can¬ 
adian discharged last month from 
the saw-mill twenty miles above 
here, and never set eyes on the 
child before to-night.” 

The man looked so utterly mean 
and crestfallen that they actually 
pitied him. 


6 o 


CREEPING JENNY. 


“ Here,” said Mrs. Alden, her 
heart overflowing with thankful¬ 
ness for the help that had come 
and the safety of her dear ones, 
“ take some hot supper before you 
go.” 

t 

“ Ye’d better,” observed Hugh, 
as the man hesitated. “ She means 
it; it’s jest like these folks. Ye’d 
better eat a good supper when ye 
can, fer you ve got a long walk 
before you. When the men daown 
t’ the Settlement hear abaout ye, 
and the trick ye tried to play on 
the Mountaineers, the country 
won’t be safe for ye ten miles 
araound.” 

Without a word the strange 
man ate his supper, put on his 
hat, and slouched off into the 


HUGH AND JENNY. 6 I 

darkness. Nor was he ever heard 
of again in those parts. 

If you want to hear a little 
more about Winnie, and King, and 
Jenny, and the rest, you must read 
the next number of this series, 
entitled “ Fir Boughs.” 





























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